Of Shrewdness and Wit
by Zixyms
Summary: Henrietta Lily Potter died in the Battle of Hogwarts. She died with a smile on her face, and her younger twin in her arms. Henrietta Lily Potter was thrown back in time. She was thrown back in time without her twin, and a lonely second chance.
1. Chapter 1: Boarding

**_Of Shrewness and Wit_**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Boarding**

* * *

Everywhere.

It was _everywhere_.

She shot a ' _Stupefy_ ' towards a masked figure who was brandishing their wand against a blond Hufflepuff student. The Death Eater fell, and the Hufflepuff turned to the witch with a grateful, weary, and strained smile. She smiled back, but it abruptly fell as a green light enveloped her fellow schoolmate.

He was dead, as his body relaxed upwards a bit before toppling over into rubble. A shaky breath left the dark-haired Ravenclaw, cold seeping into her legs, locking her there as if she was hit by the Leg-Locking Curse. The masked Death Eater moved on however, wand pointing towards the frozen witch, no doubt in shock.

"Etta! Move!" she felt herself be thrown with a strong wave of magic to the side, where she crashed, rolling aimlessly across the ground. Her glasses had flown off, and blurry shapes and flashes of magic were moving just as fast as the nervous beating of her heart.

Swallowing, she groped for her wand that laid a couple of feet away from her before casting the Summoning Charm for her glasses. Slipping them back on, she saw the falter of the Order's movements, along with the students and aurors who were determined to end the battle.

And it did.

Suddenly, the fighting ceased in quick succession. Cries of pain, crazed laughter, and the whizzing of spells all stopped.

Etta, the young witch, turned her attention to what had stopped the battle, and she saw hope and admiration in both sides of Light and Dark.

Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.

Two very similar wizards, yet on different sides of a coin with two tails or two heads.

She watched as the Potter boy shot three rapid spells varying in color, and how his foe, fluidly spun to the side for the first spell coming his way, but then disappeared with the loud 'crack' of Apparition, before reappearing behind Harry. He threw a dark violet curse, smiling wickedly as Harry barely managed to move out of the way.

Etta ran towards the dueling pair, determination replacing fear.

"Harry Potter! Give up you foolish boy and I will spare you and all your friends!" Voldemort cackled, his magical aura getting even more suffocating as he shot more spells towards the young wizard.

"You're a fine liar, Riddle!" Harry shouted, and sent a wave of the ' _Avis Oppungo_ ' charm to distract the dark wizard before firing a overpowered ' _Expelliarmus_ '.

Voldemort conjured a quick shield charm around his tall form.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Time seemed to slow for Etta.

Voldemort had moved so very fast, and the Wizarding World that was hoping for a end of the Dark Wizard felt their stomachs drop.

"Harry!" Etta shouted, pleaded actually. She pleaded to Fate to not be as cruel as all the other times she couldn't be there properly. Etta felt acceptance as she wound her form around the messy-haired wizard. Her arms enveloped him in a familiar hug, and she placed a soft kiss on his cheek before her fate became like the late Lily Potter.

The curse had struck its mark, and a Potter died.

Henrietta Lily Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived's only sibling, only companion who understood him the most, who had been there the longest, and was all one would want in a older sister, was dead.

Another Potter, sacrificing herself for the Wizarding World's only hope. A boy she protected so many times because he was her everything.

* * *

"Well Miss Potter, I was expecting your brother, but you're welcome too."

The young witch squinted towards the familiar voice, her glasses once again missing as the periwinkle-clad figure

"Headmaster?" She questioned, leaning forward. "Indeed my girl." A aged hand helped her up and she wondered if she was dreaming. Dumbledore was dead, she had seen him fall from the Astronomy tower when her and Sue Li had decided to study cloud patterns outside.

"Where are we, may I ask?" she turned and took in her surroundings, like any good Ravenclaw she started coming up with theories to where she was and why she was seeing the deceased Headmaster. There was only one conclusion, well, actually two conclusions. Either she had sniffed one too many potions, or her mind came up with the illusion of Albus Dumbledore which, in turn was more of a dream.

Dumbledore only smiled with that all-knowing aura and grandfatherly vibes bouncing off of him in waves. "We are in the in-between." he said, "Purgatory." His wrinkled hand gestured to the clean, white space around them that had an uncanny resemblance to the entry hall of Hogwarts.

"Moving on, Miss Potter." She turned to him as he began to walk, bright orange shoes that did not match his periwinkle robes, peeking out as he walked. Etta followed, feeling lost as the halls and walls of the ancient castle was empty. No portraits, suits of armor, statues, or even students. It was unnatural.

As she stared at her former Headmaster in blurry vision, she didn't notice as he lifted a his wand. "Now, m'dear I must ask for your help." A pair of glasses, better than her old ones were conjured onto her face as Dumbledore swished his wand.

"I was expecting your brother, but I think Fate wants you to be in his place for this adventure." His eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Headmaster, if I may ask, where are we?" Etta asked, looking around her surroundings now that she could see clearly now

"Sir, why am I here?"

"Why, Miss Potter, you are here simply because you died." Dumbledore stated as if the news of hearing your own death was the weather.

Etta stopped in her tracks. "Excuse me?" She gave the old wizard an incredulous look.

"Sacrificed yourself for your brother, my dear. I must say though, your brother isn't the only one with a link to Tom Riddle now." He hummed, and continued walking. "That sacrifice brought on strong magic. It's the reason that you're here now actually."

Etta stared at him.

"To put it simply m'dear, the Horcrux that your brother had obtained from Riddle when you were both very young, has transferred over to you." Dumbledore turned to her, crescent-moon glasses making his eyes seem sharp as a hawks as the twinkle that took residence in his eyes were absent.

"My brother had a Horcrux inside of him? You-Know-Who's soul?" She opened her mouth to list out why that could be invalid, but then stopped. Harry was a Parseltongue,yet she was not. You-Know-Who was also a Parseltongue. Harry had a mental connection with You-Know-Who. She did not.

"So this means..?" "This means that you'll be sent to wherever you're needed." Dumbledore hummed merrily, fishing for something in the pockets of his robes.

"Here you go m'dear." The old wizard smiled genially before plopping a single lemon drop into her palm. Henrietta accepted it and eyed the Muggle candy for a moment before popping it into her mouth, mumbling a 'thank you.'

"Do you know where I'll be sent Headmaster?" The older Potter sibling asked, sucking on the tart candy. Bright blue eyes sparkled mischievously and he clasped his hands together loudly.

"Tell me Miss Potter, how would you feel meeting more of your family?"

Etta brightened up at that. "You mean, I get to see my Mum and Dad?" Her green eyes shined with happiness at the prospect.

"I was thinking more along the lines meeting a grandfather or great-grandfather." Dumbledore said, stroking his long beard. Henrietta slightly deflated but was still enthusiastic about meeting a family member. A wizarding family member who didn't hate magic, and didn't stuff two small children into a cramped cupboard because of something they couldn't control.

Her mind whirled with the possibilities of new knowledge about the Potter family. Knowledge that didn't come out of a public wizarding genealogy book that every Pureblood or Halfblood owned in their own library.

"But Professor Dumbledore, why can't I meet my parents?" Etta asked, blinking up at him. Dumbledore continued to stroke his beard, the same grandfatherly smile on his thin lips.

"Because Miss Potter, you will have another time to meet them." They walked in silence for a few more moments, the humming of Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggy Warty Hogwarts in a jovial tune as the Headmaster kept the same smile on his aged face.

"Sir, will all due respect—" Etta began, but was only cut off by the quick ushering of Dumbledore.

"The train is quite comfortable, Miss Potter. I wish I could take a ride back with you but I must be somewhere else at the moment." The scenery changed to Kings Cross suddenly, still white and clean with the exception of the Hogwarts Express, the red and iron coloring looking out of place.

She turned to ask the Headmaster when they had even arrived at Kings Cross when they were obviously in Hogwarts just moments before, but he wasn't there.

Sighing, she thought of it as another one of Dumbledore's schemes and boarded the train.

* * *

yes, I'm starting another story. Yes it is a time-travel genre.

\- Henrietta is the name I picked because of the male counterpart "Henry or Henri" which has the nickname "Harry"

\- Henrietta will be transported back to the past, and I'm still deciding on what year it should be and I'm generally still brainstorming the next chapter ...


	2. Chapter 2: Potters

**_Of Shrewdness and Wit_**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Potters**

* * *

Etta didn't know what to make of the sudden color and the low tenor of a violin playing somewhere.

The walls were a elegant silver-grey, white curls neatly cutting a design across the pretty wallpaper. There was a window to her left, it was large and open with the beige curtains fluttering from the outside breeze like clapping paper.

The bed she rested upon was comfortable, most likely filled with feathers of some bird, and the sheets were a light beige that complimented the curtains. A wardrobe occupied the corner across from her, near the window and was carved in a soft but striking Italian Renaissance style with painstaking detail and she could feel magic radiating off of it, as if a warning to not open without explicit permission of its owner.

The room was grand and large. She spied _three_ doors, all leading to who knows where.

Panic wound in her stomach as the realized that only a Purebloods could be the owners of the house she was in. It was widely known she was a Halfblood and while she knew there was friendliness or a certain tolerance to Halfbloods, Henrietta never tried to push it with them.

But the realization of being in the home of a Pureblood most likely.

She clutched the sheets, desperately trying to come up with a conclusion of where she was.

There was a creak at one of the doors, and she froze. Her mouth felt dry, and her eyes were blown wide in anticipation and fear.

"Ettie!" Cried a very unfamiliar boy, his arms thrown into the air with a wide smile on his face. He bounded over to her bed, and sat himself over her legs like it was the most normal thing in the world. She stared at him, uncomfortable.

Of course, the stranger did not notice as he fiddled with a box contraption and babbled something about butterbeer and tongue-tingling tartlets.

She continued to stare, taking in his finely bred features. His hair was curly, and very very messy, indicating that he had recently woken up or hadn't bothered to take a brush through it. There was a slight smattering of freckles dusting over his high cheeks and narrow nose that had a slight upturn at the tip. His lips were wide, and he had a elegantly curving cupid's bow on his coral lips.

"Thank god _we_ don't have to attend Beauxbatons this year!" He cried, hand flicking over the box in his hand, twisting a small gear on the side of it every so often.

He was talking again, and a easy smile was on his lips as he spoke. Henrietta couldn't help but wonder for a moment if she was dreaming, but remembered Dumbledore's grandfatherly visage in a place of white.

It definitely wasn't a dream; much to the concern of poor Henrietta Potter who had no idea where she was or who the rather tall teenage boy on laying across her legs was.

She wondered if she should ask, but quickly ruled that out. He obviously knew her, and asking would lead to a very bad end.

" _Charlus Potter!_ I ask you to leave your poor sister alone for one week and you are already climbing all over her!" A woman in a pale blue dress clucks, and the stranger— Charlus _Potter_ —sheepishly turns to her and smiles sweetly.

She can hear him give the excuse of being worried over his dear _sister_.

Etta suddenly feels sick. She doesn't know these people but they are Potters. Charlus has the signature messy hair and unproportionate long legs.

The logical side of her brain shuts down and the loud, _Abort! Abort!_ That goes through her head has her seizing up and promptly passing out.

* * *

"I told you! I've told you time and time again, Charlus, your sister is very ill! I don't know what was going through your head when you decided to climb all over her!" The same woman was lecturing, but this time she was outside the room, voice carrying through the door.

"I'm sorry, Mother." Charlus sheepishly said. Etta heard a sniff, most likely from the woman, and then the door opened widely as Charlus followed his mother in.

"Henrietta dear, are are you feeling?" The woman's slender fingers pressed against her head searchingly.

Etta took her time to observe the woman as she fretted over her. Her hair was a soft brown and fell in delicate waves, probably done by a beauty charm. Her eyes were large and doe-like, and were a dark brown. High cheekbones were rounded off and well complimented by her soft jawline and long, slender neck. She had a small mole on the right side of her jaw.

"Henrietta? Poppet, are you quite alright?" Etta nodded demurely, "Oh darling, I was so worried! Never go into Muggle London like that again! I don't know what Charlus was thinking, bringing you there. Honestly, Muggles and their silly contraptions, they really must warn people if crossing a road is so dangerous now."

She could see Charlus behind his mother, giving a sheepish smile. He approached the bed and clasped their hands together.

"M'Sorry, Etta," Mumbled Charlus.

"Charlus! Acceptable young Pureblood men do not mumble! How many times have I told you—" Charlus's mother scolded, not noticing her son's scowl as she flickered about the room, adjusting things to her own liking. Henrietta didn't know why, but she had the strongest feeling to ask the woman to put everything back the way it was.

"Philomena, I think Charlus and Henrietta have both learned their lesson." A man with the same Potter features strode in, his dark hair actually combed down, and his hazel eyes twinkling in a way that reminded her of Dumbledore, but had more warmth.

 _Philomena_ — Charlus's mother, whirled around and pursed her lips.

"Henry, love, I didn't think that you noticed your daughter laying in bed injured!" Philomena's voice rose and Henrietta froze in the bed she occupied. The married couple, Etta assumed, kept bickering. Henry Potter's exasperated sighs, and Philomena Potter's smooth voice seemed to fade in the background.

 _Daughter_?

Henrietta Lily Potter was an orphan and she was one-hundred percent sure of that. Sure there were extended family from the Pureblood side, but she had thoroughly checked if her and Harry had any family besides the Dursleys.

Her mind flashed with questions and answers that didn't make sense.

 _Charlus Potter, born 1925, succumbs to unknown illness in 1979 at age 54. He graduated Hogwarts in 1943. He was the son of Henry and Philomena Potter, and brother to Fleamont Potter._

Charlus Potter was certainly alive, well, and young. Philomena Potter was alive, and by the few newspaper clippings she once found of her great-grandmother when she was still Philomena Pyrites, and her brother Aesop Pyrites had won the English Duelling Championship of 1903. Philomena looked the exact same.

Etta seized up, a great inhale of air entered her lungs as panic began to set in.

It was just magical theory of course. Time-travel could go as far back as a year before snapping the connection of time and leaving the traveller stranded. She remembered arguing with Hermione, the bossy Muggleborn using her experience with a time-turner as 'reasonable' evidence. Time-turners were closely monitored by the Department of Mysteries, and the amount of magically charged time-sand to send her back about fifty years was too complicated and dangerous.

Etta began hyperventilating, she could hear Charlus shout in alarm to the still bickering adults.

Charlus Potter never had a sister.

Charlus Potter was a brother to Fleamont Potter and that was it. No sister was ever mentioned in the hundreds of tomes, books, scrolls, and newspapers that had mentioned 'Potter.'

That was _it._

Her Ravenclaw mind pinpointed the only reasonable explanation.

 _Dumbledore,_ as _usual decided to_ _meddle in her life._

* * *

 _ **Sorry**._

Im still adjusting to writing over 1k-2k words, I'm more used to short and sweet oneshots. Oneshots, meaning I'm not used to updating constantly.

Ill try to make the length of each chapter longer, but I'm planning on having this story be more of a short story.

 **Yes I know that Fleamont and Charlus Potter are not brothers.**

I'm going to be changing a few things in the story, from canon, such as birth dates, ages, and I'll be adding in a few Original Characters to fill in blanks. An example being Philomena Potter and Aesop Pyrites.

Pyrites is a actual family from canon, but JK Rowling decided to keep the family name in draft, but they were to be mentioned when Hermione, in the Philosopers Stone, was looking up information on Nicholas Flamel, where she should've said she had read it in a book by Argo Pyrites.

 **See you around,**

 ** _zyxms_**


	3. Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

_**Of Shrewness and Wit**_

 _ **Chapter 3**_

 _ **Diagon Alley**_

* * *

The days of 'recovery' were very confusing for Etta. She didn't know many things pertaining to names, dates, and overall experiences that Charlus tried to cheer her up with.

She found the story where Charlus reminisced stealing the cookie jar at a family ball, but accidentally smashing it when he tripped and spilling the crumbs all over a very red and angry Grandfater Potter. It was funny until she asked for more details, like why did you steal the jar in the first place?

Charlus gave her an odd look, and Philomena who was in the room at the time, started fussing and chiding Charlus for his ' _poor sister's memory loss_ ' being his fault.

She found out later that it was because she was hungry and wanted something sweet.

Since then, Etta would listen more. Memories that _weren't hers_ would be triggered all of a sudden after touching a certain object, or the ' _memory_ ' being mentioned in passing.

"Misses Henrietty, miss!" Squeaked a voice, and Etta was snapped out of her thoughts, a light brown house-elf with a bulbous green eyes stared up at her.

"Yes, Gully?" She questioned, as the bulbous eyes blinked once, then twice. "Mistress Potter wants young Misses Henrietty to get ready, she asked Gully to help Misses Henrietty because Misses Henrietty is still getting better, Mistress said!"

The house-elf snapped his spindly fingers and a plethora of dresses were spelled on and off her until Gully nodded in approval.

"Young Misses Henrietty needs her warm coat! The snow will be cold!" The little creature snapped his fingers again, and a long dark pink cloak that reminded her of Umbridge settled on her shoulders.

"Gully, can you change my cloak? I don't really like pink." Etta asked, and the large green eyes started to fill with distress.

"Gully is a naughty elf! Young Misses does not like pink, no she doesn't! Gully has upset young Misses!" The creature wailed, and the cloak quickly changed into a nice cream color that matched her dress.

Etta tried to calm down the distressed house-elf, but Gully became even more addled for _'bothering young Misses_!'

"Gully! I order you to stop that wailing! I ask you to help Henrietta and you are agitating Henrietta!" Philomena Potter sternly said, and Etta wanted to say that she wasn't agitated because of Gully, but the little elf was gone and probably punishing himself in the kitchens.

"Come darling, Charlus is already waiting for us near the Floo. Your father couldn't attend because of his work. Honestly, I think his job for the Wizengamot was way less stressful, but of course he couldn't keep his mouth shut and not cause a scandal. Your brother, Fleamont is much too like him." Philomena babbled, her hand resting on the mid-back of Etta's as she led her to the Floo.

Charlus was dressed in his outing robes, a bright smile on his handsome face as he saw his mother and sister approaching.

Philomena had her son go first through the Floo. Charlus winked at Etta cheekily, "Condemned to escort two lovely ladies. How will I ever duel the suitors?" He earned a unamused look from his mother.

"Diagon Alley!" He said, loud and clear as the magical flames whisked him away to the public Floo in the magical Alley.

"Now dear, I know you are still recovering so I shall go with you." The witch grabbed a small handful of Floo powder in the shiny silver urn above the fireplace and led them both in.

"Dragon Alley!"

Warm flames licked at her and Philomena's cloaks and dresses, then spat them out at their destination. Etta managed a small stumble, to her immense relief. Her and Harry had always tumbled out of the fireplaces and landed more face-first then feet-first.

"Charlus, escort your sister to get her school supplies. I will be at Madam Malkins to get your robes." Philomena gave a hard look to the older teenager. "You will carry her supplies, and be with her at all times. Respectable young Pureblood men escort eligible Pureblood women around if they are family, _do you understand_?"

"Yes, mother. I will not leave Etta because she is unmarried and it is improper as a male family member. I will carry her supplies because it is improper as a male family member to let the woman carry around her purchases. I understand." Charlus droned, and Philomena gave him a once-over before nodding curtly and placing a kiss to both of our cheeks.

"Here is your lists, and spend your galleons _responsibly_." She instructed, handing Charlus two folded up parchments, and a coin purse.

"C'mon, Ettie, I'll buy you a cat. I still want to share Nooks with you, and I heard that Hogwarts has an owlery for the students so you can use the school owls if Nooks is busy." Charlus dragged her along, laughing good-naturedly most of the way as he told jokes through most of the stores.

At one point when the clerk was shrinking down a cauldron and adding unbreakable charms to their crystal vials, and jars full of potions ingredients into a shrunken bag, Charlus quietly joked about the clerk's _you-know-what_ shrinking when a jar of flying tickling horse tongues fell and the tongues promptly attacked the clerk. Etta was reduced to laughing tears.

"One wand, and then we need to get our books." Charlus announced, shoving the lists back into his cloak. "You still mad about your wand?" He asked, hesitantly.

When she had found out that her beloved alder and unicorn hair wand did not survive her skip in time, she was noticeably upset and cried for a couple hours. Charlus, of course blamed himself and said he would never set foot into the Muggle world again. Etta was just relieved to learn that in this time, her wand was snapped when she was hit by a motor vehicle.

"No. It wasn't your fault Charlie. I followed you into Muggle London knowing mother would flip." It was weird having two sets of memories, and conflicting feelings about her family in this time period. She did feel love and trust towards them, but the part that was stuck in the 1990's was wary. War made her less trusting and loving.

"Ahh. The younger Potters come at last." An old wizard cooed, his pale eyes and eerie aura reminding her much of her own wandmaker in her own time.

"Tell me, did you find the foreign wands faulty?" He leaned forward, much too close for comfort and Charlus stiffened, taking on the role of escort and pushing Etta behind him a bit.

His eyes locked in on Etta, pale and suspicious. He let out a shout of delight, startling the two teens.

"You're not supposed to be in this time!" The old man cried pointing a bony finger at Etta. "You naughty, _naughty_ , girl. You're supposed to be **_dead_**."

Etta began trembling, and Charlus's hand held her own tightly, his other fingering his wand in his pocket. The room was tense, and the chatter of Diagon Alley outside seemed to become silent.

"Dad! You need to stop that, honestly, what happened to helping Mum with the holsters?" A young man asked, urging his father to come down from the front desk and shooting an apologetic look to his clients as he quietly scolded the older wandmaker.

He came back out from the towering shelves full of wands, dusting his hands with a sheepish look on his face.

"Terribly sorry about my Dad, he hasn't been right in the head since an accident in experimenting with a Rougarou hair for a wand core." He pursed his lips at his tense clients.

"I won't charge you for anything you buy today, please take it as my apology." Charlus relaxed a bit, and curtly nodded.

"My sister needs a new wand. Her old one snapped." Ollivander's eyes flitted towards the smaller girl behind Charlus.

"Can I have your names please? I found that knowing your parent's wand types it is easier to find yours."

"I am Charlus Potter, and my sister is Henrietta Potter." The wandmaker nodded and gave a thoughtful hum.

"Your father, was most suited to an English Oak with a Kelpie hair as its core. 11 inches, surprisingly bendy. Your older brother I recall had an Aspen wand. Good thing too, I remember him dueling in the halls at Hogwarts and in the Dueling Pit quite frequently." Ollivander fluttered behind the shelves, summoning an array of boxes.

He set the horde of boxes on the front desk and lined them up.

"Maple with a unicorn tail core. 10 inches and pliable." He motioned for her to give it a swish. Etta cautiously came up to the desk, but as soon as she touched the wood of the first wand, it shot straight out of her hand and down the narrow aisle of shelves.

He went through about a dozen more wands, each having their own separate reaction varying from destructive to comical. If Charlus's ' _manly_ ' shrieks and loud guffawing was anything to go by.

"Cypress and phoenix feather. 13 inches, swishy." Etta tiredly grasped the wand wood, and felt a jolt of electricity spark up her arm, bright gold sparks emitting from the wand tip.

Ollivander mumbled something under his breath before speaking up, "Tell me, Miss Potter, which house do you prefer to join in Hogwarts? I understand you and Mister Potter here have been attending Beauxbatons under your mother's wishes."

She thought of Ravenclaw. The airy and free, yet sophisticated feel of the common room with the stunning views and relaxing whistle of wind. The marble statue of their house's founder, and the enchanted dome ceiling that had the constellations and stairs twinkling and changing with the actual movement of the galaxies.

"I hope to be in Ravenclaw." She stated, a pang of homesickness suddenly washing over her heart.

She _really_ missed home.

* * *

"The only good thing that we got out of that was free wand holsters." Charlus complained, dragging Etta to Magical Menagerie to get her cat.

There was a flustered worker near the pen of Streelers, looking particularly fearful as one of the giant snails almost burned him with their toxic slime.

Charlus left her to look for a new perch and some owl treats for Nooks, and motioned to the felines.

' _Ginger cats are allowed at Hogwarts and often keep students company throughout their studies'_

 _'The Tabby cat has a distinctive patterned coat which can have grey, brown, or red stripes.'_

 _'With its striking eyes, elegant frame, and triangular pointed features, the Siamese is seen by some as the most attractive in the feline family.'_

 _'These felines often have bright blue eyes which stand out beautifully from their snowy white fur.'_

Adverts flashed from each pen of different cats, trying to stand out before flashing the amour of galleons it would cost for them.

Etta crouched down at the pen full of ginger cats, tempted to have a constant companion throughout her studies, but when a fluffy tawny cat hissed at her she decided otherwise.

 _'Black cats make loyal, charming pets_.'

The simple advert flashed, displaying the price of 9 galleons before flashing back to its catchline.

Etta approached the pen, and four pairs of different eye colors caught her own green. She cooed at the sleek cats, and they nuzzled over her offered hand.

Green met green, and Etta stared at one of four black felines. The cat's eyes matched hers, matched _Harry's_ , and Etta quickly scooped up the cat into her arms.

"You are a very handsome kitty, aren't you?" She murmured warmly, and got a meow in response as the cat tried to adjust itself in her arms. Etta found herself cuddling the animal, happily holding the cat she dubbed 'Harry' after her twin.

She carried the black cat to the register, the drowsy worker suddenly snapping up as if he was wide awake the whole time. Charlus seemingly appeared out of nowhere and paid for everything plus a green collar that matched Harry's eyes and had a minor tracking charm on it.

They left Magical Menagerie, Harry nestled into Etta's arms, purring in content his green eyes closed. Charlus was talking about an owl he thought of gifting to Philomena or Henry but knew the family owl was still pretty young and well enough to fly.

"I mean, Nooks is a great owl too, but that thing was massive." Charlus babbled on, not catching onto how Etta wasn't really listening and was more focused on the purring cat in her arms.

"Look, cousin dear, they let blood-traitors wander Diagon Alley." A blonde teenage girl sneered, her grey eyes glittering in some sort of twisted amusement. The quiet young man next to her had an uncanny resemblance to Sirius and Etta's throat lodged up.

"Black, how nice to see you. You're still as _enchantingly_ ignorant as I last remember." Charlus smiled politely, and the blonde sneered again.

"I hear that your flea of a brother still hasn't had a child. His wife must be bare, pity too, she had to be barren and married to a blood-traitor." Etta racked her brains for why the rude blonde sounded so familiar and found out why a couple seconds later.

"Walburga, associating with filth is unbecoming, I believe that Father and Uncle Pollux are waiting for us, let us go." Walburga preened under the dark haired wizard's attention and a sultry smile danced over her lips.

"Of course Orion, I shouldn't lower myself to scum like _them_ ," She spat the last word out like referring to her and Charlus like it was a disease.

Etta suddenly felt sick and Sirius's voice echoed in her ears.

 _'My parents' Sirius gestured to the two names on the family tapestry that was above a scorched_ _Sirius Black_ _and_ _Regulus Black_ _. 'They were second cousins. Walburga actually liked Orion, I think that's what made it worse than anything else.' Sirius laughed drily, coldly. It didn't fit him._

Orion's eyes met her own, grey locking onto green. His eyes flashed with something and his lips curved upwards a bit. He turned then, leading Walburga away as she prattled on about filth.

Charlus sighed, "I guess we have to deal with that witch of a witch." Etta let out a chuckle.

"Don't you mean–"

"No, I meant witch. She's the wicked witch. The witch of witches." Charlus interrupted.

"But that doesn't even make sense!" Etta laughed, and Harry stirred in her arms. Charlus gave her a crooked grin, "A lot of stuff don't, sis."

Charlus just didn't know how right he was.

* * *

 **Wow. Fast update, am I right?**

I had the urge to start writing this chapter as soon as I woke up and I'm satisfied with it... a little bit.

 ** _Anyways here's some trivia I wanted to share this chapter but I found it too long-winded and unneeded. You can skip this part of my Authors note if you want._**

I chose Henrietta's new wand, Cypress and Phoenix feather as such because the wandlore behind Cypress is that 'Cypress wands are said to be well matched to wizards who are self sacrificing and willing to die a heroic death.' This fit Henrietta to me because of the heroic death she died when saving our favorite Boy-Who-Lived.

Alder, actually didn't really have much symbolism to Henrietta, but the lore behind it is that the owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but helpful, considerate and most likeable.

English Oak, for Henry Potter's wand was chosen because while in my mind I believe Henry is loyal. Another person who had a English Oak wand is Rubeus Hagrid.

Fleamont was given a Aspen wand because on Pottermore it is said that he duelled many times over the subject of his name. Aspen wands are described to be for those skilled in martial magic and owners are accomplished duellists.

Now, onto cores.

Henrietta's original wand was of Unicorn hair. They are described to be harder to turn to the dark arts and most faithful to their first owners.

Her new wand had a Phoenix feather, Phoenix feather wands are described as while they show amazing feats of magic they take longer than Unicorn or Dragon heartstring wands to show this.

Then, Kelpie hair in Henry Potter's wand doesn't really have lore about it but Gervaise Ollivander, Garrick's father used it and it was a much more common wandcore pre-Garrick Ollivander who changed the wandcores used by the Ollivanders to make wands to Phoenix feather, Unicorn hair, and Dragon heartstring.

 **As always,**

 ** _zyxms_**

 ** _PS. PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to seeyour thoughts on this story so far!_**


	4. Chapter 4: Hogwarts

**_Of Shrewdness and Wit_**

 ** _Chapter 4_**

 ** _Hogwarts_**

* * *

The portrait stared down at her impassively. The focus of the art being a man of mid-forties with a heavy, stern, face and thin lips. He had the signature messy Potter hair, but seemed to wear the hairstyle as if it was naturally flat. Etta continued to stare few more moments before she heard the press of rapid footfalls running to her. Only Charlus ran in the manor, much to Philomena's relief and annoyance.

Today was no different as the rest of the days Etta had become accustomed to in the Potter household. Philomena was a stern and scolding hand in the family, and she held power over her husband when it came to it. Henry on the other hand, was always busy with one thing or another. Even so, she could still feel the affection and care he radiates around his family when spending the limited time he had with them. Charlus was mischievous, and Etta couldn't help but wonder if James Potter inherited his Uncle's knack for being a troublemaker.

She could see the portrait out of the corner of her eye give a condescending sniff towards her and a out-of-breath Charlus, before sauntering out of his frame.

"Henrietta, darling, why don't you let your father take your luggage, hm?" Philomena fretted, summoning the two trunks towards her with a flourish of her wand.

The manor was busy, house-elves Apparating in and out of the Greeting Parlor where the Floo was located. They were trying to quickly follow Philomena's orders, unnecessary as they were.

"Philomena, they are just going to Hogwarts." Henry's amused voice carried as he rounded the corner, light brown wand in his hand helping to levitate several bags of luggage that Etta thought was too extra.

"Yes but that's Hogwarts! Fleamont had a hard enough time in Hogwarts. I should just send them to Beauxbatons again, Monsieur Drury would allow the last minute re-submittance—" Henry gave his wife a stern look, hazel eyes seeming more of a hard brown at that moment.

"Philomena, 'tis Charlus's last year. I want _every_ Potter child to have at least attended Hogwarts. Henrietta can then transfer back to Beauxbatons if you so wish it after this year." Henrietta could see Philomena's pursed lips and displeased expression.

She gave a swift nod, and turned to Etta and Charlus, who was busy fixing the clasp on his cloak.

"Come dears, your father will take the luggage." Philomena beckoned for them to join her in the clean fireplace, a hand resting on Etta's shoulder as she ordered Charlus to use the Floo powder.

There was whizzing, and Etta could feel Philomena's hand tighten on her shoulder as they stumbled out. She quickly pulled the two Potter children out of the way of the fireplace as Henry came through, the luggage all shrinked and most likely placed in his pocket.

Etta looked around, there was many families. She could easily tell the difference between the wizarding and the awkward Muggle ones. Children were easily conversing to each other, and older teenagers were helping friends or younger children board their luggage.

Philomena turned Etta to look at her. Pretty brown hair in a complicated hairstyle, and her eyes filled with melancholy.

"Henrietta love," her voice was soft and warm. "You take care in Hogwarts, you understand? Remember to write at least once a week, and to look out for your brother. Do _not_ get caught up in anything too dangerous, I know you like to study but remember to eat and sleep. Hogwarts has greenhouses, I know how much you like to garden so I put in your gloves and boots in the smaller grey trunk." Philomena let her white gloved hand stroke over Etta's black locks before pulling her into a tight hug.

It was warm and motherly, and briefly Etta wondered if the feeling of belonging in the embrace she felt was the feeling of having a mother.

When Philomena let go, Henry came and swooped her up. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead that reminded her of Sirius, but missing the light scratching that Sirius would have due to his facial hair.

Etta suddenly felt her throat close up, and her chest felt tight. It was a new feeling to have a family, her family tell her warm things, and give a loving goodbye. Usually it was Harry who experienced these kind of things from the Weasleys, while nice to her, had a feeling of obligation to do it towards her because she was Harry's sister.

She pulled away from Henry, and turned to see Charlus, his cheeks an embarrassed pink as Philomena fretted over him, despite being over a head taller than his mother.

They said one more goodbye as her and Charlie turned to board the Express and find a cabin that wasn't full. She could see Henry hand over a small pouch to Charlus, probably filled with Galleons to spend over the year.

The trains aisleway was still narrow, but enough to fit at least two people if they walked side-by-side down the aisle. Etta quickly peered in many cabins to find one empty, and when she did, she found that it was the same cabin Harry and his friends would consecutively sit in. Immediately, she opened the door and went in. She claimed the right bench, and sat close to the window. There was still families and children on the platform, and she could see Henry and Philomena still there, searching for which window they were in.

Charlus settled opposite of her, but sat with his legs spread out on his own bench. She could feel the train jerk, signalling that it was starting to move, and saw a older year quickly run after the train.

Henry's eyes met her own through the window, she gave her a wide smile and saw him gesture to his wife to which window she was in. Philomena waved them off and seemed to want to chase after the train like some younger siblings of students were doing but thought better of it.

* * *

Charlus was wide awake, and suspiciously too hyper after leaving their cabin for a few minutes. Etta suspected that he had bought snacks off the trolley, if the shiny Choco-loco wrapper sticking out of his robe pocket was anything to go by.

Etta was hungry, but decided that when she reached Hogwarts she could indulge herself. Leaning her head against the window which bumped every so often, Etta set her book to the side so she could sleep comfortably as Charlus played with a Magic Symbols Game on a twitching lap.

"You missed tea-time" Charlus says, not looking up from the _Gobbling Goblin Cards_ on his lap.

Etta snorts, shifting on her bench in the cabin ansbach stares at Charlus with half-awake eyes, "Not the first time I'll ever miss tea."

Charlus off-handedly nods, and the cabin wobbles from the train's jerky movements.

Snuggling into her outer robes, she mumbled for Charlus to awake her when they are near Hogwarts, airily he agrees and keeps his eyes focused on his game.

She let sleep overcome her, and the dull wobbling of the train's movement soothe her to sleep.

* * *

After changing into plain black robes, similar to the first years, her and Charlus stepped off the train. Harry was in his cage, green eyes flashing under the grey cover his cage was under.

"First years! Right here, right here! All _new_ Hogwarts arrivals!"

A elderly man, thin and bony with a leer on his wrinkled face, and a brown rat on his shoulder yelled loudly. He made a nasty face to a group of huddled first years who shrieked, and scuttled back.

"Ah, the new ones." He gave a crooked smile, and pointed to a larger, yet more rickety boat on the Black Lake. "That one is all yours."

He cackled and then snapped at the firsties to get into the boats, and herded them in like a swooping eagle looking for prey.

"I am Mister Rancorous Carpe! I expect all of you to remember that when you break any rules." He sniggers, pulling out his wand and flourishing it widely. The boats rocked forward and started their way to the ancient castle.

The sun was setting over the lake, and the pink and orange tones bounced off the ripples and the stone of the castle. She heard Charlus let out a little gasp, and Etta stared up at Hogwarts.

If she tried hard enough, she could remember her first year to Hogwarts, hand lacing with Harry's as they thought of home. Hogwarts was her first _home_ that she could remember.

Etta shuffled in with the first years, already out of the boats and leaving her luggage and Harry the Cat on the shore of the lake for the house-elves to deal with.

Caretaker Carpe pushed her and Charlus forward. "Headmaster said that _you_ two go first," Carpe curled his lips, and showed off a set of very yellow teeth and one browning canine.

Charlus's hand reached for her own. It was warm and comforting, but his hand was soft and accustomed to the life of little labor besides that of flicking a wand.

"Potter, Charlus!"

His hand slipped from hers, and Etta could see him square his shoulders as students curiously peered at him. Of course her and Charlus would be centers of gossip for the beginning weeks, they were transfer students. Charlus's shoulders were squared and his face was set in a blank mask that Etta secretly called the " _Potter Clay Mask_ " and was most familiar with it when Harry was being serious or trying to look undaunted.

Dumbledore, a younger Dumbledore with auburn hair and little wrinkles (but still horrible fashion choices), smiled charmingly at Charlus before plopping the old Sorting Hat upon his messy hair. The ghastly hat twisted itself, as if burying itself in his hair would make his thoughts easier to read.

There was a minute pause then—

" _Gryffindor_!"

The table of red and gold burst into loud hollers and very aggressive clapping. Charlus politely handed the Sorting Hat to the Deputy Headmaster, the twinkle in his blue eyes so bright that Etta could see them across the hall.

"Potter, Henrietta!"

Eyes turned to her, and Etta suddenly felt very self-conscious. She straightened her posture and met Charlus's warm eyes from his new house's table. An encouraging smile was shot her way and she almost didn't notice the walk across the Great Hall or the grandfatherly hands placing the hat on her head.

" _Well, the last time I have seen a universe hopper was in 1592."_ The hat drawled, his flaps stretching.

 _"Silent one, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll still sort you just like the last." The Sorting Hat nestled upon her hair, "Ravenclaw suited you perfectly before, but you're too sneaky for that now, aren't you? You used to be qualified for Hufflepuff I see… Gryffindor seemed to fit your twin perfectly but not you."_

Etta thought about the last option and suddenly felt very small.

The hat chuckled, " _You don't like Slytherin don't you, eh? Don't worry, neither did Goodrich Gryffindor after their legendary spat. But, you suit the House of Green, much more in this timeline than you did in the other if it is any comforting fact, if Rowena was still alive she would gladly take you into her house a second time, but this time it should be—"_

" ** _Slytherin_**!"

The Great Hall froze. Slytherins quietly clapped, and Etta slowly took of the battered hat and handed it to Dumbledore. His warm twinkle was gone and replaced with something calculating.

Etta didn't like it.

She could see Charlus giving her a worried look, trying to look supportive amongst all the gossiping cliques.

"It's been at least _eight generations_ since a Potter went to Slytherin!" A red-haired Hufflepuff stage whispered.

Etta, her legs awkward and on auto-pilot made their way to the Slytherin table, taking an empty spot between the end and the middle of the long bench.

She glanced around at the faces around her, but they all seemed to ignore her and focus on the upcoming first years.

"Alderton, Aleks!"


	5. Chapter 5: Slytherin Welcomes

**_Of Shrewdness and Wit_**

 _ **Slytherin Welcomes**_

 _ **Chapter 5**_

* * *

The walk down to the Slytherin dorms were cold and quiet. A few spoke, but they were always in hushed whispers. The main noise was the footsteps of students and the draft of cold air blowing through the dungeons.

When they came upon a stone wall, the Prefect for Slytherin whispered so softly the password was like a hiss. Like a snake.

The Slytherin dorms were chilly, and there wasn't a fire lit under the elaborately carved mantlepiece. Above the mantle hung a large serpent who keenly observed the new Slytherins with his sharp yellow eyes.

Greenish lamps hung on silver chains that gleamed in the green light of the Common Room. Chairs around the room looked more for show than comfort and reminded her of the fancy chairs from the Potter Drawing Room.

The two Slytherin prefects leered down on the first years. Upperclassmen scattered through the room, and pretended to engage each other in conversation, but discreetly watched the new group.

"First years, and transfer students. I am Tom Riddle prefect, and my fellow prefect next to me is Isobel Yaxley. Any problems regarding the Boys' Dormitory goes to me, and any problems regarding the Girls' Dormitory goes to Madam Yaxley." He gestured his hand to a red haired girl with a narrow nose and soft curls.

Henrietta's heartbeat became fast, there was panic in her body but confusion in her brain. Who was Tom Riddle?

"There are rules in Slytherin, and these rules must be obeyed. You may interact with those outside our house but, they cannot enter the Common Room. There has not been an outsider in the Common Room for over several centuries and we want to keep it that way." He makes eye contact with a few who have siblings outside of Slytherin, including Etta.

"We are united. Family squabbles, and personal dislike does not exist outside of this Common Room. Together we are strong, and we want to make the rest think twice before messing with us. All problems must start, end, and be confronted in the Common Room. No exceptions." Etta took a glance around her; every firstie seemed fine paying close attention.

"Those who do not know basic etiquette will be throughout trained by one of the 7th or 6th years for the first month or until you memorize everything about Pureblood etiquette."

"We are not imbeciles. If your grades become low, we will know. Failure to find a tutor will cause Madam Yaxley and I to find one for you. Duels are not allowed on Hogwarts campus, but they are allowed in Slytherin dungeons."

Etta furrowed her brows in confusion, and wanted to pipe up and ask but a pale boy with mousy hair had beat her to it.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his high pitched voice a contrast to Prefect Tom's smooth baritone.

"We have a special room." Riddle grins, teeth gleaming. "When there is a duel, it must be declared in the Common Room and all of Slytherin will attend."

Yaxley cleared her voice, catching the attention of everyone and ignoring the annoyance on Riddle's face.

"Now, before we go into dueling there is another rule. You may break Hogwart's rules, but you must not get caught. Failure to not get caught will result in sleeping in the Common Room. Remember, this is a dungeon and it gets chilly throughout the year." Her Scottish lilt bounced off the stone walls pleasantly and reminded her of McGonagall.

"And for the final rule," Yaxley continued, "Unknown to the rest there is a Slytherin Court. We have a King and Queen. The King and Queen nominate every title to be given to a student. You cannot join the Slytherin Court until you are in your Third Year. Now, there is a Prince, Duke, Marquess, Earl, Viscount, Baron, and every female counterpart to those titles. That makes 14 'Slytherin Court Nobles.'"

Henrietta pursed her lips in puzzlement. She had a theory that there was a hierarchy within Slytherin but dismissed it thinking that Slytherin was away from those traditions. Apparently not in 1943.

"Any questions regarding the Slytherin Court will go to Baron Bletchley and Baroness Travers." Riddle motions for the two mentioned to stand, and they do so with sneers to Riddle.

"Okay first years, your names are put on your room's door. You will be sharing with four people and we have taken the liberty to assign you to each room. There will be no changes." Yaxley ends the greetings, and Henrietta feels lost in the glowing green room. Younger siblings go to their older ones and met with proud smiles and hugs.

Etta's heart feels tight and she finds herself missing Harry again. She remembers how saddened he looked to be separated, but then instantly peaked back up learning that Ravenclaw was the house for smarts.

' _I told you that you were smart!' Harry cheered when they met up the day after. His glasses were askew and hair as messy as always._

 _"Gryffindor for the brave, eh? More like the reckless!' Harry let out an indignant squawk and reached over to miss his sister's hair._

 _"Harry!"_

Swallowing a feeling of homesickness, with a _'No, Harry is gone.'_ She clears her face of emotion and quickly assesses the Common Room. There is a silver adder on one side, and a green one which is considerably larger and wrapped around the bannister. Etta knows there aren't any green adders, but starts to the stairs with the larger adder, hoping that she picked the right one because of females being larger than males.

As it turned out, she was right. There was a hall of doors, and after about ten doors there was a curve that went down and lead to stairs that led to another hall of ten doors. It went on for about two halls, and she found the Fifth Year girls rooms.

Next to the doors there was a silver plaque in calligraphy. She glanced at every plaque before finding hers.

 _ **Dalton, Julienne**_

 _ **Greengrass, Aspen**_

 _ **Nott, Thomasina**_

 _ **Potter, Henrietta**_

The form was lavish. Four poster beds in silver bedding with green accents were placed in the corners of the room. There was a large oriental rug in the middle of the room, and a trunk on the foot of every bed.

She scanned for her own trunk, and found it on the right side of the room, the bed furthest from the door on that side. Henrietta noticed Harry contentedly sprawled out on her bed, his tail swishing to and fro.

"It's not home but it'll do, right Harry?" The cat ignored her and flicked his tail in her direction. Etta sighed and started to unpack.

The side table next to her bed had a drawer and a open space beneath it where she placed some books on top of a blanket that Philomena had the house-elves pack after fretting about the weather in the Scottish highlands.

Soon enough, the small space looked like hers. There was a moving picture of the Potters, including her that seemed to be taken when she was younger. It was weird finding a picture of yourself in a timeline you shouldn't exist, but the photo was nice.

Philomema was sitting in a chair, her black-and-white features soft and beautiful. Henry looked unusually serious, his hand resting on his wife's shoulder and was intensely staring at the camera. An older boy who looked to be in his early twenties with a pair of glasses stood next to Henry, he shared the same sharp cheekbones as Philomena. Charlus was holding a bundle of lace, and when looked upon closely enough the bundle was a baby. Charlus looks so very happy and proud, crooked smile lighting up his face with the unruly Potter hair.

The family looked perfect together. Henrietta only hoped she wouldn't be shamed for being in Slytherin.

The door to the hallway swung open, and girl with pale blonde hair spared Etta a look before finding her own trunk. After her followed in two brunettes, one with glasses and wavy hair and the other without glasses or curls. The brunettes were talking amicably, but just like the blonde, they spared her no glance.

Henrietta's heart sunk.

Maybe it was because she was used to the looks and friendly chat that others would give her in Hogwarts because she was Harry's older twin; but Henrietta felt a bit offended.

There was no use in crying over spilt milk.

Etta continued to read in her bed while Harry snuggled into her side, purring.

While there are drawbacks to using Cicuta, a plant from the hemlock family, rather than Caraway one major drawback is the event of evening out the Peppermint to the Cicuta will mean more grinding of the Peppermint plant.

"Potter, is it?"

Etta looked up from her book, Potion Substitutions, and the girl with the curly brown hair and glasses stood a couple feet from the edge of her bed.

"Yes?" Etta felt nervous.

"I'm Thomasina Nott, you're new to Hogwarts I assume? I heard that you transferred from Beauxbatons." Nott's voice was smooth and sweet.

Etta was taken aback for a moment, and blinked owlishly. "Um, yeah. My eldest brother, Fleamont attended Hogwarts though."

Nott nodded, and Henrietta was a bit taken aback from how intently she seemed to listen.

"Slughorn asked me to give you your schedule by the way. You have Arithmancy and Potions with me, so I hope we can get along." Nott gave her a polite smile and suddenly turned and crossed the room, back to her own bed.

Etta was surprised. Tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear she looked down at Harry whose green orbs stared right back at her own.

Harry meowed, and Etta hummed in agreement.

 _Too_ friendly for a Slytherin.

* * *

September 2nd, Thursday morning of 1943.

Etta woke up early, earlier than the girls in her dorm and earlier than Harry who was resting on her feet as a bed warmer.

Quietly, she tried to get out of bed without disturbing anyone. The rustle of sheets seem louder than they usually were, but maybe it was because of all the stone on the ceiling and walls of the room, allowing the sound to echo.

Her hair felt gross and Etta felt as if there was a light layer of dirt on her. Sliding off of her bed she searched for a robe to bring with her to the bathrooms, and left the room.

The search for the Slytherin baths was difficult, especially since she only found it by accidentally bumping into a snake ornament that turned out to be a secret switch.

Of course, like anything Slytherin the baths were ostentatious and had a high vault ceiling. There was three dividers, and she opted for the one on the far left because of the stronger smell of mint and pine. The baths were steaming, the bath actually being more a of a large communal pool, not unlike the one in the Ravenclaw tower used to unwind for stress.

Small silver snakes had their mouths open, hissing. Water flowed from their open mouths and into the steaming pool. Etta set her robes on a stool and proceeded to strip.

She was jealous of the Slytherin baths of course. They probably had the best ones due to all the monetary donations from rich parents or former Slytherin donors fond of their school years in Hogwarts. She knew the Gryffindor baths were little more than just stalls with shower heads and that was why most Gryffindors snuck into the Prefect baths.

Leaning her head back on the cool tile, Etta let herself relax.

The Slytherins were mainly indifferent towards her. Except Thomasina. Thomasina was strangely friendly for a Nott. Nott's were known for being the silent type and in the Pureblood community, the most quiet were usually the ones you had to be more suspicious of.

Etta huffed, stretching her arms out in the water and watching how the water rippled when she moved.

Out of all of her circumstances, Etta had to say not having glasses anymore was the best bonus. Of course, the Potters were there up on her ' _Pros and Cons of Timetravel'_ but Etta really appreciated not having the lenses over her eyes. They would always fog up in the muggy weather, especially when it was hot and humid. The Ravenclaw tower was airy enough that it didn't happen as much, but the Gryffindor tower was always warm, especially during Quidditch match parties that Harry would drag her to in excuse that he didn't want to be lonely.

 _Harry_.

Etta missed her twin. The world was easier to bare with someone to understand and unconditionally love no matter what. She supposed Charlus could count, but he was two years older and treated her like she was a baby, when Etta was used to doing the babying because she the older twin.

As she pondered her new family, her mind skipped to Fleamont Potter. She has never seen the Potter heir, well in her 'new timeline' mind she had memories of a much older sibling who loved to carry her and Charlus on his shoulders and run around the estate with Philomena screeching her disapproval from the porch.

The different set of memories was very odd. Her 'original' set was the memories of her twin Harry, and the horrible times at the Dursleys. The 'new timeline' set of memories was full of love and Potter Manor. Sometimes, Etta had a hard time separating the two.

Etta lifted her head up at the slapping of feet on wet tile. She squeaked, face turning red as Orion Black pursed his lips.

"My apologies, I was under the thought that no one was awake at this hour." He quickly turned his back to her but didn't leave.

"Yes, well I hope this does not happen again," Henrietta replied curtly. She tried to sink into the water and covered herself with her hands.

Black simply tilted his head in agreement and started to make his way out.

"This side is used by the boys for your information. I recommend quickly leaving. They get up early." Black advised in his drawling voice.

Etta had quickly finished up and left after that. She was embarrassed and her mind was flashing how inappropriate that situation was.

Silently, she snuck back to her room and was grateful to see that the girls were still fast asleep. Changing into her robes, she was sad to see the forest green and silver on them.

Glancing at the girls in the room, she reached for the Cedar and phoenix wand from Ollivanders and changed a small part of the green trim, on her outer robe, blue.

I will always be a Ravenclaw.

* * *

This is more of a filler chapter than anything. I wanted to give you guys something, and this story may be slowburn but it also may be fast. I've just finished exams (not sure about my grades yet...) and I've been busy as always. I've started on the next chapter and I'm grateful for every review left for this story! They seriously push me to do better, improve, and write faster to get every chapter out for you guys!

Anyways,

Henrietta has two sets of memories. One of her timeline with Harry, her being in Ravenclaw and being a Halfblood orphan. Then she has the second set of memories of a timeline where Henrietta Potter is not a halfblood or an orphan and was born in reason why she can't remember Tom Riddle is because of the overwhelming amount of information so i rationalized she will have forgotten things.

Fleamont Potter is her eldest brother. I'm still figuring out the math, but he is in his late 20's and is married to Euphemia (as per Pottermore dictates). Charlus is _not_ Henrietta's _twin._ He is 17 and is a seventh year.

I will try to expand more on the universe of this story, including pureblood society, WW2, and Orion Black. Right now, the story is mainly Henrietta's POV and that's why it is focusing more on her own problems and homesickness.

Now, please leave a review! They honestly make me write the next chapter up faster!

Love,

zyxms


	6. Chapter 6: Day One

_**Of Shrewdness and Wit**_

 **Day One**

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

The table at breakfast was unwelcoming to Henrietta. No one had scooted over for the witch, sneering unpleasantly and turning their backs to her.

For all they preached of a united front the night before, they surely didn't mean to include her. Etta pursed her lips and set her brows in a determined front. Snatching a seat before a 6th year could seat himself, she ignored the tittering of students in green and loaded her plate with food.

She could see Walburga Black shoot her a nasty look and turned to gossip with a square-jawed girl with hair braided into two neat plaits.

Nott climbed into the bench seat next to her casually, "You had gotten up earlier than the rest of the girls in our dorm, I was concerned if you managed to find your way to the Great Hall." Nott sipped her orange juice and fixed her glasses.

Etta stayed quiet, trying to quickly eat her food. More people from different houses trickled into the Great Hall and, she could see Charlus dragging his feet to the Gryffindor table sleepily.

"Why are you trying to make my acquaintance?" Etta asked softly, and Nott tilted her head to Etta.

"You're Slytherin." Nott said simply, taking a bite of toasy covered in what could be either strawberry or cherry marmalade.

"So is the rest of our house." Etta said, motioning her hand subtly to the rest of the table. Nott shrugged and took another bite of her toast.

They sat in a thin, companionable silence. The Slytherin table was much more composed and quiet than the rest of the other houses. Ravenclaw was similar, but there was more debates about one thing or another.

After breakfast, Slughorn had cheerily greeted everyone in his house while passing out the timetables. He seemed a bit disappointed he hadn't gotten Charlus in his house, and was dismissive of Etta. It was irking, but due to the circumstances of women in this era, Etta could see where he was coming from.

Her and a few Slytherins headed to Herbology. There wasn't much chatter among the green-clad students and they walked fast, causing Etta to take twice as many steps than she should to keep up.

Some Hufflepuffs greeted them, cheery demeanor and warm smiles on their faces as they entered the greenhouse . A plump little man stood at one end of the greenhouse, cheeks a cherry red, and a wide-brimmed straw sun hat on his greying blonde.

"'Ello class! I see we have some new faces." He spoke with a Yorkshire accent, adding to the trustworthy and kind visage he already had.

"Good morning, Professor Bulbs." Hufflepuffs chimed.

The plump man then started to launch into a tirade of vine-based plants and their uses. Henrietta wanted to admit, the jolly man was a much more involved and understanding teacher than Professor Sprout was when it came to Herbology, and some students aversion to the plants.

The Fledgling-Finger Vines danced in their clay pots; peach colored and emitting odd popping noises that sounded like when Fred or George Weasley would crack their knuckles to Hermione's horror.

Some of the Hufflepuffs had figured out to make the vines reveal their bright purple flowers as they wiggled in anticipation to be sucked dry of their leaking nectar.

Etta pulled a face. Magical plants were weird.

* * *

Professor Verniciare was an very elderly man whose robes entirely dwarfed him and made him seem smaller and more frail than he already looked.

His classroom on the fifth floor was full of moving paintings and scenes, the subjects in them animatedly conversing with one another. A large handful of Ravenclaws made up the class, and it was the reason Etta had picked Art as a extra-curricular.

She was the only Slytherin, and some Ravenclaws had warily greeted her, being polite to her presence and inquiring on if she had ever done an art class before. It was business-like but familiar to how she used to interact with others when _she_ was a Ravenclaw.

Verniciare had quickly gone over the differences of paint, and when it was good to combine different types of paint for different textures or brightness of color. He then assigned a project due at the end of the school year: family portraits.

While Etta had no qualms about this, she honestly wondered about the few students in school who wouldn't be able to paint their family due to a lack of one, or the more common, parents not bothering to acknowledge their children. It was more common with Purebloods. Have an heir, make sure they survive and are tutored correctly, then that was it.

From her new memories of this timeline, she could recall a few memories of having nannies, but the nannies were quickly done away with due to a hovering Philomena who took care of her own kids more than the nanny.

Etta sighed, and began a small sketch on a scrap piece of paper to draw her new family. Sketching the outlines of everyone's features was frustrating. Never too satisfied with Philomena's cheekbone structure or Charlus and Henry's head shape. Fleamont was an obscure image in her head, and so she based him off of Harry but with a taller frame and wider shoulders.

Quite frankly, she didn't know where to place herself in the portrait and just drew a stick man to keep her (possible) space in front of Philomena.

Etta sighed as she erased Charlus's big head for the fifth time and then put a lazy circle on top of his neck, sniggering quietly.

She wondered if Harry would've ever considered getting a family portrait with her, and the makeshift family they made for themselves.

 _Yes. He would've._

The handsome face of Sirius, the tired but content smile on Lupin's lips with Tonks hanging on his side, Teddy, their newborn son in her arms and his hair changing colors rapidly. Andromeda would be there, next to Sirius because the woman was a maternal figure to Etta. Harry would insist to have the Weasleys and Hermione in the portrait, and she would agree only because she enjoyed Bill's laid back conversations and Fleur's company. Etta then would've argued to having Su Li with her, because her fellow Ravenclaw was her best friend, and most understanding to her personal thoughts besides Harry.

Again, her heart clenched thinking of those she left behind.

* * *

"I've heard your brother got into a spat with one of ours." Nott hummed, flipping a page of her book. They were outside and had the rest of the day off after a Gryffindor tossed the wrong ingredient into their cauldron. The classroom was filled to the brim with foam, and Potions would probably be cancelled till the end of the week.

"What did the Slytherin do?" Etta asked, and Nott looked up sharply at her, "You are a Slytherin, Potter, if someone hears you talking like that they'll take you straight to Baron Bletchley."

Etta hid a scoff, and crossed her ankles as she leaned back on the Quidditch bleachers. The Hufflepuffs looks like they practicing with some mis-matched group of Firsties from different houses.

"Slytherins have a dark reputation Nott, of course I'm going to question what we had done first." Thomasina gave her an inquisitive look before turning back to her book.

"You're from Beauxbatons, it's understandable you do not like the separation from your brother or the divided Houses, but the reputation we earned is to protect ourselves from our founder's folly."

An aggressive bludger flew overhead and chased after a first-year Hufflepuff who shrieked and pulled up so fast in his state of panic, she wouldn't be surprised at the whiplash shen must've got. Etta flickered her gaze over to him before turning back to Nott.

"What mistake did Salazar commit?" Nott looked up from her book, and to the overcast sky before pursing her lips.

"I'm surprised, most Potters have gone to Hogwarts and have been placed in Gryffindor. You should've heard of the the fallout between Gryffindor and Slytherin from your eldest brother or your father." Nott then began to inform her of information she had already known. She slowly was beginning to learn that feigning ignorance was easier to stay in a middle-ground in the Slytherin House politics. She was ' _foreign_.'

"Slytherin didn't want too many Mudbloods in the school. Witch hunts were succeeding before spells were made to keep wizardkind safe. Too many Mudbloods meant exposure, but Gryffindor believed that Slytherin was being a coward—"

Etta wondered if Harry would think her a coward for the way she was facing things in this ' _past._ ' She quietly took in everything without question and ached for her twin on nights where her bed felt the coldest. Harry was always next to her in bed when they lived at the Dursleys'. The thought was quickly discarded, Harry would've thought her as smart for observing and staying quiet unless she knew the correct thing to say.

"—so they had a grand duel and none really know who won, but Slytherin was either banished or left. I'm surprised Gryffindor kept Slytherin's students around to continue his house, because of course there aren't many teachers during this time period. I entertain the thought that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are the reason that the Slytherin House is still around. Helga was noted for being kind and compassionate, and Rowena would've saw the probability of children not fitting into the three remaining houses if they did."

Etta nodded absently, and Nott continued her own one-sided conversation. She wondered if she used to be like this, but recalled Hermione being worse. But in her opinion, Etta hadn't liked Hermione after third year because of how annoyingly competitive she became after Etta beat her in Charms and Transfiguration.

Hermione was bossy, overbearing, and while she was smart, Etta thought her to be quite oblivious and narrow minded at certain times. At first, she pitied the poor Muggle-born who tried her hardest to fit in, but then that pity became annoyance when she aggressively pressed Etta for how she did her study routine, or pointed out that her answer was wrong with a smug look on her face. The annoyance faded away when she heard how much her and Harry went through. Hermione had then grown up, and while Ron Weasley did as well, Etta couldn't look at her twin's best friends with a minor twinge of annoyance for their existence.

Harry was always the nicer one out of the two of them anyways.

"Nott, does Walburga Black hold a court position?" Etta asked. The blonde Slytherin was currently laughing loudly at a teary-eyed firstie as she shot Stinging-Hexes at the poor kid.

"She holds the title of Duchess I think. Last year she was Queen when she was dating Ahsam Shafiq when he held King. He graduated last year, and held King for three years; it was impressive." Walburga's cackle was eerily similar to Bellatrix's, and she could hear it clearly from her spot in the bleachers. Henrietta shivered.

"Who is holding the highest court position right now?" The first year cried louder and scrabbled across the bleachers to get away from Walburga's hexes.

"Abraxas Malfoy. He doesn't have a Queen, and it's an effective power play. Queens stay the whole year after being chosen even if they break up." Nott flipped open her book again and fixed her glasses upon her nose before continuing to read.

"Potter! I heard your brother attacked my dear brother Cygnus." Walburga haughtily stalked towards her, nose in the air. Her fine features were pulled into a look of disdain and the air around her practically reeked of a narcissistic air. Her little group all had the fine features of a Black and shared the trademark height and dark hair, minus Walburga.

Henrietta pursed her lips, folding her hands into her lap and sitting straight. She tried her hardest to channel an air of elegance, mainly by pretending she was Philomena who was in all aspects, the most elegant woman she met besides Narcissa Malfoy.

"I apologize on behalf of my brother then." Walburga's lips curled into a smirk and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I _demand_ reparations! Your blood-traitor brother could've maimed my dearest Cygnus." Etta clenched her jaw. The audacity of Walburga's demand truthfully made her nervous, the Blacks were basically royalty and when they demanded something, they got what they wanted. The blonde's nose stuck up in the air, eyebrows raised.

"Then our Patriarchs can converse the reparations." Walburga sneered and placed a hand on her hip all the while giving Henrietta nasty look, her pointy features looking sharp.

They stared at each other coldly, Walburga's dark eyes filled with triumph of an unspoken victory, while Etta's green shot daggers of steel. The air was tense, and Thomasina Nott had looked up from her book to only quickly look back down, flipping her page loudly to make up for the silence that had fallen.

Orion Black placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder, and Walburga snapped at the new addition to quickly shut her mouth. Her body language leaned to Orion and her hands quickly found Orion's arm, looping hers with his. Walburga fluttered and sighed as she pressed herself to the Fifth Year's side. Etta felt queasy from the thought of romantically liking someone so closely related.

"Cousin dearest, a brother's mistakes shouldn't reflect on their own siblings, else I think that you would be blamed more for Alphard's silly bumbling." His hand smoothed over Walburga's and he spoke warmly to her.

The blonde ate up her younger cousin's attention and she tittered, "Of course Orion, how silly of me, it must be the stress of this dastardly school, it seems to ring the worst out of the elite."

"Understandably so," He sniffed, Etta pursed her lips and tried not to scoff. Hogwarts was one of her homes and she felt miffed of someone speaking of it in such a way. It was where she had first felt safe.

Orion nodded, leading his tittering cousin away, though his eyes lingered on Etta longer than she thought was comfortable. His gaze wandered her person as if memorizing her, and he gave her a satisfied smirk as he strolled away with Walburga on his arm, cousins following behind the two. The small group was a stark contrast to the Quidditch bleachers with the haughty air around them.

"Orion Black isn't one to interfere with Walburga's antics." Etta turned to the brown-haired Slytherin with a questioning glance. Nott gave her a long look, and seemed to be satisfied with whatever she saw and buried herself back into her book.

Later, she found herself with Nott again, wandering the dungeons as they had a amiable argument to the time frame whether a bezoar or an antidote would work faster to help someone. It was refreshing and reminded her of Ravenclaw with the nightly discussions over late-night snacking in the Common Room.

Nott was intelligent, and she carried a book with her just about everywhere and purposefully wore the longer skirts that ended around her ankles so her pockets would be deeper to carry things around.

"Yes, but a bezoar can be much faster! You can just shove it down the person's throat and they wouldn't choke on liquid." Nott scoffed, fixing her glasses and flicking her wavy hair over her shoulder.

"You're forgetting that bezoar's vary in size? It would most likely work if it was smaller but what if you only had a large one? And antidotes can be powder, you can blow it down the mouth or sprinkle it down." Etta laughed when the other girl pretended to sprinkle something.

"Fine, I'll give you this one," Nott smirks smugly, and it's an odd expression on her normally blank face. Etta smiles to herself, and the two walk through the dungeon, footsteps echoing through the dark. The torches flare brightly as they pass, and the heat from the flames is comforting.

It becomes late, and they head to the Common Room while trying to dodge Prefect patrols. It's fun, and they're giggling together as they duck behind a pillar while a Gryffindor-Ravenclaw duo argue. The two prefects are loud and unaware of their surroundings and Nott shoots a tripping jinx at the two. They smother their laughter, and run away.

She feels like a kid, and it was fun to hide in the dungeons, ducking from pillar to pillar till they reached the stone wall of where the Common Room was hidden.

"Sanguine." Etta says, and the stone bricks reveal the Common Room, the water from the lake reflecting off of the walls and the fireplace burning green. Few are up, and a pair of blonde twins are playing chess by the fireplace.

Walburga Black is lounging on a chair near the corner, on the lap of her younger cousin Orion, and it makes Etta largely uncomfortable at the acceptance of the blatant display of incest. Walburga is practically purring in her spot and her younger brother Alphard sits across from them with his face scrunched up in disgust.

There's a small cheer near the fireplace as one twin calls out, "Checkmate!" and the other groans loudly. Orion startles at the sound and his eyes flick to the fireplace with annoyance.

Nott lead her to their dorm room, and for a split second, gray had met green. Etta shivered and Nott gave her a questioning look.

"It's just a bit chilly," She lied and Nott nodded understandingly.

* * *

I'm honestly one of the _**laziest**_ writers.

But anyways! Thank you all for the follows, favorites, and reviews! I really appreciate it.

Now, my updates are sporadic and I feel like my writing skills are deteriorating from what they used to be, but I've been working on a upcoming Tom x Harry fanfic. Hom? Tarry? idk the ship name.

Anyways if you have any questions about Of Shrewdness and Wit don't be afraid to leave a review with your question and i'll answer it as soon as I start pumping out the next chapter! And by the way, i want to know how you guys think i should progress the story more. I'm usually a one-shot writer so this multiple chapter thingy is hard.

Im still looking for a beta! Drop a message and we can chat about it!

Love you all and your support!

 _zyxms_


	7. Chapter 7: Cliché

**_Of Shrewdness and Wit_**

 ** _Cliche_**

 ** _Chapter 7_**

* * *

 _"I have to get the horcruxes before he can save them." Her hands wrung nervously, searching her counterpart's eyes with a desperate fervor. She wanted to hold him close, his achingly familiar face looked too tired for a boy of sixteen. Oh Harry, she thought._

 _"Harry," she paused and her twin looked away, biting his lip. "I have to do this Etta,, it's my destiny."_

 _He turned from her, "I'm not going to take you with me."_

 _There was a pause, and then her hands flew out to grab him and turn him around forcefully. She felt him flinch under the rough treatment and in the back of her mind she felt bad, but she was angry._

 _"Why not!? Harry, I can help! You know my magic is strong and I can hold myself in a duel—"_

 _"—This isn't just a duel, Henrietta!" She stilled in shock from the use of her full name. Harry glared at her, hands clenched to his sides. "You can't try to shield me forever. I'm growing up Etta."_

 _"I'm saying goodbye now, I don't know when I'll be back." Harry's face was blank, but she could see the stiffly held anger behind his mask._

 _"I just want to protect you." His eyes softened, and he made to reach her._

 _"I see." She jerked away from him, and didn't turn back as she walked away. The hurt she saw on her younger brother's face as she turned away made her heart clench._

 _I'm sorry Harry._

* * *

Etta jerked awake.

The room was quiet and cold, Greengrass's lamp next to her bedside glowed a very dim green that made the shadows in the room seem larger. Yellow eyes glared at her from Greengrass's bed, her beast of a cat growling.

She carefully made her way out of the room, slowing down cautiously as she passed the glowing yellow eyes, and a lightly snoring Nott who had a book clenched in her hand, probably reading before she fell asleep. Etta made her way down the hall, trying to stay quiet as she padded down the stone hall. The floors didn't have a warming charm on them despite the cold of the dungeons.

There was a fire going in the Common Room, and it was a warm orange instead of its usual green. Seating herself across the flames, she curled up on the lightly padded couch. It wasn't meant for relaxation like the Ravenclaw couches that everyone in Ravenclaw had surely fell asleep on from staying up too late to study.

"You're not supposed to be in the Common Room at this hour." She jumped, startled at the interruption of a new person.

"Then why are you here?" Etta turns her head to the person, and a smirk stretches across their lips and they cock their head to the side curiously.

"Because I want to." She huffs, "That's not an answer."

Black chuckles, seating himself in a chair near the couch. The light from the fire enhances his features and Etta wants to cry at how he looks like Sirius in this light. Sirius definitely inherited his looks more from his father, she thought.

"I apologize for Walburga, she usually is as nasty as they come." She raises a brow but doesn't retort, turning back to the fire.

It's quiet, the fire crackles and they sit silently together for a moment.

"What was Beauxbatons like? I cannot imagine any place better than Hogwarts, especially since they let in such rabble." Black raises a brow, a subtle smirk on his lips. He expects a blood-tratior retort, Etta thinks, he wants to rile her up and then name all the reasons why Muggleborns are unacceptable and wrong.

"Beauxbatons was beautiful," she replies "I enjoyed the exposure to many cultures and languages since Beauxbatons takes in many from the other countries." Orion narrows his eyes at her and prods once more, "What about the Mudbloods accepted?"

"My, my, are you interested in them? I can send in a word to the ones in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff." Black blinks at her, and Etta's hands are clenched as she tries to seem relaxed.

 _You are not Lily Potter's daughter here. You are not a Halfblood. You are not Lily Potter's daughter, you are not a Halfb—_

"Well played Potter." Black kicks a leg out, crossing one long leg over another as he stretches in his seat. The position is similar to how Sirius would relax, and she wonders if he picked up on it from his father in some way.

They are silent once more, and Etta feels the urge to talk even though she is uncomfortable in Black's company. She wanted to be alone, but couldn't just ask Black to leave her alone. An image of Philomena popped up in her mind, scolding her like she would constantly scold Charlus when he was not being an 'acceptable Pureblood.'

"You are betrothed, yes?" Black speaks up, his hands folded in his lap as he turns his head to the fire. She can only see the slope of his cheekbone and the shell of his ear.

Blinking, Etta ponders the question for a moment. She doesn't exactly know if she is in this timeline, and while the thought makes her bristle to be married off like a good Pureblood girl, she knows it's one of the bigger cons of this timeline besides the Second World War.

"I do not know yet," she says hesitantly, "Mother would prefer it before my Seventh year."

He snorts, turning his head to her; his grey eyes catch the firelight and they burn silver instead. "You are luckier than most then. My younger cousin is in his third year and is having his first child. Most Potters marry later, if I remember correctly." Etta startles at his first sentence, at thirteen some child was having a child? They were most likely already married, per pureblood custom, but a third year?

Back home, there was betrothals between the richer halfbloods and of course the purebloods, but it was always after they finished schooling. Sue Li would've cried if her parents ever betrothed her before she finished her studies, she thought.

"I might be betrothed to Walburga as summer comes. The girl is ghastly enough when she visits, and I dread the notion of wedding her." He sighs dramatically and leans over the armrest of the chair, backwards, black hair hanging in his face while he grins teasingly, "Though I can't imagine why my parents want me to marry a creature instead of a nice, proper witch."

She stares for a moment before she's laughing hard enough that it feels like she did a hundred sit-ups, and her face is flushed red. Orion joins in with her, still hanging upside down from the armrest, his legs curled in as he shoves his hand over his face to stop his chortling that only makes Etta laugh harder.

The image of an angry Walburga Black doesn't sober her up, but only conjures a ridiculous image of her mixed with several magical species.

As their laughter stops, Etta shifts on the uncomfortable couch so she is laying on her back. The ceiling of the Common Room is the plain grey of stone, and she can feel Black staring at her.

"Potter."

She can hear Black move around to sit up, and a hiss as his bare feet touch the cold floor.

"Help me." He says, and Etta furrows her dark brows as she turns to the Black scion.

"I didn't think that Blacks asked for help with anything." Etta stated as she crossed her ankles.

Orion brushes off her comment and leans forward in his chair. He isn't close, but it makes the two meters they separate them seem even closer than they should be.

"I don't want to marry Walburga, and I know you don't want to be the next Lady Macnair or such." She whips her head to him, and she can feel her hair tangling up as she does, her head pressed to the couch as she lays.

"What makes you think I'd rather be the next Lady Black? We hardly know each other besides our family reputations." She narrows her eyes at Black, and he puts up his hands in a calming motion.

"I can pretend to court you, and we can get married afterwards. I don't want to marry Walburga, and while your family is considered to be bloodtraitors—" he winces as Etta's lips press into a firmer line of disapproval, "—you're in Slytherin, so my family will overlook it. We can stay married for a year or two then null the marriage."

Etta huffs, pushing herself up from the couch she shakes her head, "You're crazy. You can't ask this of me, we barely even know each other!"

Orion quickly gets up, taking a few steps closer to her, but backing off when she pins him with her green eyes. "That's why I said I would court you, we can get to know each other that way and it would make us seem more serious than a dalliance."

The fire crackles loudly as a log splits. Etta sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she begins to pace. The floor is cold, but she pays it no mind as she feels Orion's eyes watching her closely.

"With preference?"

A quizzical look is thrown her way, "Pardon?"

Etta sighs and does some gestures with her hands as she paces, "I have choices to what I will allow and not allow to happen in this... courtship."

He nods, "To a degree where it can still be a proper courtship." Etta feels like a freight train has settled into her stomach while a hammer makes use of her head.

"I—" she sighs, "—agree."

They clasp hands to seal the deal, a ribbon of purple embracing their hands together before fading away.

* * *

When Etta wakes up, Harry is curiously staring at her from his perch on her feet. He meows, and it sounds disappointed as she recalls the night before.

"Yeah, me too." She replies as Harry meows again.

The dorm room isn't bright, but the soft glowing ball of light floating near the ceiling shows that none of her dorm mates have yet awoken.

Picking to skip a shower in favor of an early breakfast, she quickly dresses before anyone else can awaken. She grabs her bag for her textbooks, neatly placing a Transfiguration essay between the books so they wouldn't crinkle. Harry meows again, the cat following her out of the girl's dormitories before finding a place to perch in the Common Room.

There's a few early risers seated on the couches and chairs, rubbing away the sleep from their eyes and some were scribbling down last minute homework furiously.

The scraping stone made way for the exit as they opened up, and she quickly makes her way out of the dungeon to escape the chill. Most portraits are waking up, announcing their morning greetings to each other before greeting Etta.

The Great Hall has a few early risers, majority of which are Ravenclaws. A few Gryffindors amble about, mingling with the sleepy Hufflepuffs. She sees Charlus with a red haired witch, a possible ancestor of the Weasleys with how bright of a red her hair is. Charlus spotted Etta, excusing himself from the possible Weasley.

"Good morning, my dear sister," Charlus held his arms open for a hug, and for a moment Etta hesitated before accepting the embrace. Charlus didn't seem at all concerned that she was in Slytherin, and she hoped that Philomena and Henry would feel the same.

"Good morning Charlus. How's Gryffindor?" Etta asked, leaning back to look up at Charlus's smiling face.

"It's a juicy riot." Etta gives him a puzzled look, and Charlus laughs, "I picked some slang from others."

Etta quirks a brow at Charlus and he gives her a grin, "How's Slytherin, Ettie?" He asks, releasing her from their familial embrace. Etta didn't realize how much she missed the familiarity of another Potter with her.

"A bit cold, but I'm getting along fine with one of my dorm-mates. She actually has a brain." Targeting the last sentence in a drawl towards Charlus, he gives her a fake pout and chuckles, "I honestly expected you to get into Ravenclaw."

 _The table was polite as she sat down, an older student summoning a plate and several people inquiring if she needed anything that was out of her reach. It was an overwhelming experience from half-starving in Privet Drive, bitter against her relatives._

 _"Welcome to Ravenclaw." An older, dirty blond boy smiles, a badge pinned to his robes that read 'Prefect.'_

Etta blinks, and he chuckles as he passes her some split peas, small debates and conversations starting back up after all the firsties have been welcomed.

Etta gives him a half-hearted chuckle, straightening his red and gold necktie. "She'd have fit if she saw that."

Charlus rolls his eyes, "What mum doesn't know won't kill her." He then promptly undoes Etta's work and sticks his tongue out at her. She laughs at him as more people begin to sleepily file into the Great Hall.

They separate, promising each other to meet up during lunch or a class that they might share. Etta isn't dumb enough to ask Charlus if he could sit with her, or vice versa. The Gryffindors would call her names until she left, and the Slytherins would frown upon Etta for allowing her brother to sit with them. She would go straight down the Slytherin social hierarchy, and that wasn't a pretty place to go.

Etta seats herself as soon as she sees Orion enter the hall. Walburga is gossiping with some Black cousin, if the other girl's dark hair and tall, thin frame were anything to go by.

Orion scanned the table, his eyes landed on Etta, and she felt her hands become clammy. She wanted to back out, tell him to forget to deal, Obliviate him of the memory. With every step, she could feel her nerves set on fire and the tingling of regret heavy in her stomach.

He's closer. A shadow falls over her back, and she clenches the fork in her hand as she takes a bite of her eggs.

But he passes. Orion doesn't look at her as her seats himself a proper distance of three feet away, Walburga sits as close as she can to him, and the Black cousin takes up the last space that is closest to Etta.

The most of the student body begin to file in, a grand total of about two hundred students, coming and going. The yellow-clad Hufflepuffs stayed together as a group, older years elongating the table to make space for the incoming. Studious Ravenclaws either studied at the table or shoved their breakfast down their mouth as fast as they could to make it to the library right when it opened. Most Gryffindors were slumped over the table, and a huge portion were missing. Most likely asleep. The Slytherins steadily came and went about their business in and out of the Great Hall, refusing to look anything near tired, despite the dark circles under a few.

"Incoming mail!" Calls out a Prefect, the first owl swoops down and drops a package on top of a sleeping Gryffindor to much amusement when they wake up with an undignified squawk.

A barn owl swiftly lands in front of Etta, leg holding out an enveloped letter. She offers the animal a piece of her toast, and takes the letter from its leg. The Potter crest sits on the red wax seal, a potion bottle with two wands behind it sat in the middle of the shield. Ivy grew out to border the shield gracefully, and a two pillars stood strong with a winding ribbon of the family motto on them in Old English.

She wants to set aside the letter. Philomena could care less about the house she was put in, she went to Beauxbatons in her youth. Henry's disappointment would hurt her. The man was always busy with the Ministry work he did, but he was a warm and welcome sight in Potter manor.

Etta breaks the seal, and almost puts it away again when she sees the gracefully looping script of Philomena.

 _Dearest Henrietta,_ is at the start of the parchment.

 _Charlus has written home that you've been sorted into Slytherin. Gryffindor wasn't a surprise for your brother, he's too much like Henry when he was younger. I am disappointed that you didn't write home as you promised me, but I can assume that you are ashamed of the house you were sorted in. Do not fret, my dear, being cunning or ambitious is not to earn a broken or contrite heart over._

 _Houses don't define a person dear. If they did, then Fleamont wouldn't be exceptionally smart, nor Charlus being understanding. I do hope that do you think this over._

 _In a week or two, I believe that clubs will be starting in Hogwarts, or so your father tells me. As a lady I would like for you to join the Needlepoint and Charms Club. I know you will take the former with the enthusiasm of a salted snail, but needlepoint is a good source of creating charms or wards over the household or room. I will send a book for you to read more on it._

 _Some of your friends from Beauxbatons have sent letters. I have shrunken them and placed them near the bottom of the envelope._

 _Lastly, my dear Henrietta, Slytherin isn't a house to be ashamed in. I am glad that my daughter has the potential to outwit others. I am proud of you._

 _My love,_

 _Philomena Leopoldine Rouergue Potter_

* * *

"Who can tell me the uses of Counter-jinxes? Yes, Mister Mulligan was it?" Professor Merrythought asks, squinting at the student roster. Mulligan, a dark-skinned Gryffindor stutters his answer out, the Slytheirns snickered as his swarthy skin tints the faintest of pinks.

Etta sighs. She hoped the curriculum would be different from the '90s but she was sorely disappointed. Taking her quill, she scribbles down the few notes on the blackboard, and tries to ignore Black. He sits directly behind her, and his feet are crossed over one leg of her chair, tugging her backwards every couple minutes. It's annoying.

After breakfast, Black had approached her. His arm was offered, and a small, yet fake smile was given to her—it was more for show towards the student body that immediately broke out in frantic whispers.

She could see Nott's calculating look, and Charlus's slack jawed shock and anger. Not to mention, Walburga Black sent her the most hateful glare. Etta could feel her skin prickle at the thought.

"This is so stupid." She mutters, pressing a bit more forcefully on the tiddle. The dot above the eye becomes a large blob of ink instead of an actual tiddle. Behind her, Black pulls her chair with his feet.

Merrythought is gifting some blond Gryffindor five points as she contemplates breaking whatever vow she and Black made the night before.

" _Miss Potter_! Five points from Slytherin! I asked you a question and expected an answer. If you think that you can space out in this class, then you can leave." Merrythought slapped down a ruler in front of Etta, and she jolts.

"My apologies, Professor Merrythought." She replies, despite the annoyed glances from her housemates.

"Good. Now can you tell me the counter-jinx to the Meliflors Jinx?" Black yanks on her chair leg. "The Pepenonrebum incantation," She says as Merrythought swiftly nods, her short red hair bobbing. "Ten points to Slytherin, yes."

The Head of Ravenclaw then moved on, unbiased as she took points and gave points to both rival houses during the class. Once class ends, she hurriedly packs up her stuff, then whips around to Black.

"What, may I ask, is your problem?" Etta hisses, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Black tries to take her bag from her, and she takes a large step to separate them. "You distracted me the whole lesson! It is most unbecoming—"

"Henrietta, my dear, why would you need to worry about studies when you have me?" Black gives her a look, and a few students lingering outside of the classroom begin whispering furiously. The Hogwarts grapevine surely will be singing with rumors and speculation by lunch.

She picks up her pace, wanting to get away from the annoying Black heir. A hand grabs her wrist and drags her into one of many unused classrooms, much to her mounting irritation she wants to snap at the owner of said hand.

"Potter, be still!" Black hisses, wrenching her around to face him. Her bag slides down her arm and heavily rests on inside of her arm. "You made a vow. We both did. I know you want this as much as a rat wants a kneazle." He says lowly.

"I made the vow while half-awake, Black." He raises a brow and sighs, "Potter, we both know that you can't break whatever vow we made last night." Etta glares, "I can try."

He laughs dryly, "Don't you sound like a bloody Gryffindor?" Black crosses his arms over his chest, and appraises her. "Pity. I thought you were smart enough to take on this opportunity."

She breathes heavily through her nose, and narrows her eyes in question. "Come on Potter, you're a pureblood yes, but you're from a blood-traitor family. Your reputation in our House leaves much to be desired; I can help."

Etta ran his proposition through her head. She could feel the vows straining under her skin for her sudden disagreement—they prickled painfully when she thought of saying no.

Flicking her hair over her shoulder, and smoothing down her robes she sighs, "Let's go over some guidelines." Black groans, and she quickly puts up a finger. "I barely know you, Black."

He lifted a brow and sneered, "Very well."

"First. You will not pick on my family." He opens his mouth to protest, "That was Walburga—" Etta interrupts without caring, "—You will keep your darling cousins mouths to themselves. I will not tolerate disrespect."

Black is glaring at her, his grey eyes a flinty steel as he clenches his jaw. "Fine." He mutters, as though forced.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Etta complies to Black's machinations. The whole idea of a fake relationship seems terribly cliché, and she doesn't like the attention that is suddenly amounted onto her when Black escorts her through the halls.

It's not the brightest idea she's had, and Etta swears to never go out into the Common Room past curfew ever again. She doesn't talk to Nott all day, and by the carefully hidden inquisitiveness that shines in her blue eyes; there will be questions later.

Charlus seems to follow her around, because she swears she sees the signature Potter hair more than once in her route to her knows Charlus's schedule from the brief glance she had gotten of it. It's only when he follows her and Black to Ancient Runes, she's skeptical of his tailing because she knows he's supposed to be in his Apparation classes that was being taught by some Ministry worker.

Black is not amused by this whatsoever, and Etta finds herself hearing too many frustrated sighs when Charlus peers at them behind a suit of armor.

Ancient Runes is being taught by a middle-aged wizard with a goatee. He introduces himself as Professor Altoy Aanepada. The Professor is a fair and stern man, little sway towards favoring Houses because of his foreign nature, and little care towards the house point system.

Black of course, picks a seat next to Etta. In a petty move, she steals one of his nicer looking quills and ignores the hiss of irritation from him. Professor Aanepada begins the lesson with naming the most common runic alphabets, and by region of where they are common.

Next to her, Black sighs and settles his head on the table to sleep. Etta rolls her eyes.

* * *

"Her hand was on his arm!"

"No!" Gasps a Gryffindor girl, "How scandalous! Orion is cheating on Walburga?"

"I don't think they were dating in the first place, Victoria." A male Ravenclaw chuckles.

Etta is certainly positive that the person drilling holes into her head is Walburga Black. The gossip going through the Great Hall certainly doesn't help her case, and she almost wishes that the Killing Curse hit its mark and Dumbledore ignored her arrival in Purgatory.

She can see Charlus across the large room, his face pinched into a nasty scowl as he stabbed his dinner. Black is sitting casually next to her, as if little worry in the world, while Etta twitches at the prospect of a hex being shot her way by his obsessive cousin.

He hasn't spoken to her since pulling her into the empty room, and for that she's slightly grateful. She quietly eats her chowder as Black converses with a familiar pointy faced blond and the Head Boy, Tom Riddle. Nott isn't at dinner, and she feels a bit betrayed by her intelligent dorm-mate.

There's a loud, clang! And Etta hears a few cry out in alarm, mostly ickle Firsties. Charlus mahe's his away across the hall, eyes blazing and wand held firmly to his side, out and ready.

"Black!" He spits out, and several with the surname turn around in alarm. Black, the one next to her, ignores Charlus and carries on conversing.

Etta watches with wide eyes and Charlus wordlessly throws Black off of his seat. The Slytherins freeze, and a few of Black's relatives have their hands hovering over where their wands are. The Great Hall fell silent, and Coach Cragg, the Head of House Gryffindor quickly makes his way to them, followed by Professor Slughorn.

"Mister Potter! I will not tolerate violence!" Cragg shrieks, his bushy white hair erratically floofing more than it normally was.

Charlus is breathing deeply, and his wand is trained on Black. Black smirks, his hands up and palms presented to him, "What a noble Gryffindor, to attack an unarmed man." Black drawls, lips curling upwards.

"Mister Potter! Mister Potter do not think that I will not take points from Gryffindor! Young man, sit down!" Coach Cragg shrieks again.

Charlus's hazel eyes narrow behind his glasses, and before he even speaks, a sense of dread settles in her stomach.

"I, Charlus William Potter the Fifth of the Ancient House Potter challenge you to a duel." Etta wants to groan in frustration. Coach Cragg had frozen where he was, and Slughorn had seemingly gone pale, no doubt thinking of repercussions from the Black family that he would have to deal with.

"I, Orion Black, First of my name of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, _accept_ your challenge." Black's smirk stretches wider as Charlus clenches his jaw.

She can see Dumbledore at the Head Table lean over to whisper in the Headmaster's ear.

Charlus drew back himself, and his wand. He gave Etta blank look, and turned back to his own table, all of his anger seemingly gone. Black seats himself again, and ignores the look Riddle shoots him as he continues his conversation as if a confrontation never happened.

Afterwards, dinner throughout the Great Hall wasn't as loud as it always was.

* * *

I've been busy with finals since April, and I still am. My apologies.

To those reading _A Mother's Love,_ I am currently drafting and rewriting the whole story. Even the plot a bit. To those just reading _Of Shrewdness and Wit_ , while my updates are slow and inconsistent, I will not abandon this story, so there is no need to message me in such a rush.

Anyways, some facts/trivia

-I have switched from the first day of Etta's arrival to the first month. So it has been a month of her living in Hogwarts in the 'past.'

-I have this small little headcannon that the Potters have named most of their children after U.K. nobility, namely royalty. That's why I named Charlus, Charlus William. Henry and James Potter strengthen my headcannon and I reason the practice must've started 1700s-1800s possibly.

-I know that the fake relationship is a cliche. I'm taking my own spin on it, and while albeit rocky, I've fit it into my plotline that will soon become clear in a couple chapters.

-Philomena Leopldine Rouergue Potter. This is an example I've made of a pureblood witch's full name. [First Name] [Middle Name] [Maiden Name] [Marriage Name]. If Etta and Orion truly follow through with their plan, Etta would be: Henrietta Latitia Potter Black. In her original timeline she would be Henrietta Lily Potter Black. I changed her middle name to fit something Philomena would pick.

-The Potters are an old house. I just added the title "Ancient" to them, but without the 'Noble' I would think that a background pureblood family that stayed out of spotlight most of the time (as said by JK Rowling) would not find use of the title.

Leave some reviews! Id love to if you guys genuinely enjoy this story so far.

love, zyxms.


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